


Obligation

by kayecho



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Character Death, Drama, Dubious Consent, Gen, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Omega Verse, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-01-15 06:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12315261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayecho/pseuds/kayecho
Summary: "Ignis was chosen out of all of the eligible omegas born to the house of Scientia. He was, as was customary, to become the young prince's omega, responsible for becoming both his caretaker, and carrying his future children...."





	1. Lunchboxes

Ignis was chosen out of all of the eligible omegas born to the house of Scientia. The family had a long history of devout servitude to the royal family of Lucis, and of all the candidates, he was the closest in age to the young prince and had the most admirable number of traits. He and his parents were tall, but not too tall; they were slim, but not too slim. He was intelligent, well ahead in his curriculum, and at 8 years old, he was already spending his late afternoons in cram school between his already assigned duties within the palace walls. His eyesight was a minor thing, just slightly myopic, but the royal family had a long history of perfect vision that they hoped would win out in the end. He was, as was customary, to become the young prince's omega, responsible for becoming both his caretaker, and carrying his future children.

Noctis Lucis Caelum had been born an alpha, as every crown prince ought to be, and with the war against the empire of Niflheim, he was engaged to wed to the princess of Tenebrae, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret in an attempt to unite their kingdoms and bring peace to their nations. She was, in addition to being the last in the Nox Fleuret line, an oracle and an alpha. The marriage would, as far as Ignis was aware, be very difficult for producing heirs without the assist of an outside omega.

A slave to responsibilities and obligations, Ignis fell into the role more easily than he would ever want to admit. It was in his nature as an omega. He was supposed to desire mothering and caring for others. By the time the young prince started high school, he had found a comfortable rhythm, preparing lunches for the young prince, dressing him for school, doing his laundry, repairing his clothing, caring for his illnesses and his injuries. It wasn't an ideal lifestyle, by any stretch of the imagination, but he endured. Being chosen as Noctis's omega meant he was given many more rights and privileges that the Scientias, as retainers, advisers and butlers could only dream of. It also granted him more freedom than any ordinary omega would dare dream of. Ignis reminded himself, every night, to be grateful.

A proper lunch box for a growing teen of fifteen years old of average requires somewhere in the ballpark of 850-950 calories, and while the prince was required to participate in several hours of fight training, he also spent more time asleep during his classes than appropriate. This meant Ignis did not plan and pack lunches anymore than 900 calories: one part protein, two parts vegetables, three parts grain. He also learned, quite early on, that Noctis would not eat anything considered a vegetable, so he did his best to incorporate the offending ingredients in the grains and protein in an attempt to hide them. For example, rice often hid cauliflower, meatballs often hid peppers and leafy vegetables. Carrots, however, were impossible to hide. There were more than a few occasions when Ignis would unwrap the lunch in the evening to find anything containing the root to be left completely untouched, no matter how minuscule the ingredient had been made, no matter how well disguised it was.

Lately, it seemed, even the carrots were being consumed, the lunch box turning up completely empty at the end of the day on several occasions. It was a curious change, especially when he tried to implement the same techniques for dinner and Noctis, predictably, would push aside anything containing carrots and sort out any discernible vegetation. Suspicious, Ignis intentionally held back on giving the young prince his lunch for the day. Instead he showed up at lunch, traveling from his third-year classroom to the first years. Noctis was predictably, surrounded by individuals who wanted to know more about his life as a prince. Not so predictably, it looked as though he were actually sitting _with_ someone.

The boy opposite Noctis at their desks was petite. He was blond. He was pale with freckles. He had warm blue eyes and hair that reminded him of the fluffy down of a baby chocobo. Most notably, he was grinning from ear to ear, as though he were perpetually happy. He had an excitable nature. There was something vaguely mesmerizing about him.

Ignis stood longer, perhaps, than he should have at the door to the classroom, watching the young prince with his new friend. It was only when a first year bumped into him, trying to squeeze past did he remember why he was there, and he cleared his throat, approaching the desk to set the lunch box down in front of Noctis, who had apparently tried to make do without a packed lunch to help himself to the junk food that the cafeteria called bread. Ignis snatched up the strawberry cream bun before it could be consumed.

"I've brought your lunch, Noct."

"All right!" The blond spoke up first, reaching for the box, removing the lid. He made an exaggerated motion of breathing in the smell of it. "Aw, it looks extra delicious today! I'll eat anything you don't want, 'kay?"

"Fine by me."

Ignis cleared his throat and then adjusted his thick framed glasses, which got the attention of the blond. The boy looked up at him with those big, warm blue eyes. "Oh! You must be his Ignis," the boy said. There was something distinct about his voice. Some specific sort of lilt that sounded impossible to replicate. He wiped his hand off on the front of his uniform, scattering crumbs, before holding it out in greeting. "I'm Prompto."

The terminology of ownership caught Ignis off guard for the briefest of moments before recalling that yes, he is, in fact, technically the young prince's property. If not Noctis's, he qualifies as belonging to the royal family regardless. "Yes, I... am _his_ Ignis. It is a pleasure to meet you, Prompto."

The boy's hand was warmer than warm. It was as though Ignis's hand were enveloped by coals on a cold winter's night. The touch lingered, as the handshake continued on for longer than it should have, Prompto pumping their fists together enthusiastically. Eventually Ignis pulled his hand back, and tried to discreetly wipe the palm of his hand off on the side of his uniform trousers, before taking his leave, feeling slightly overwhelmed as he watched the boy dig, with relish, into the lunch he had so meticulously made for the young prince, who had already picked out the octopus shaped wieners and was eating them slowly, one curly leg at a time.

That evening, as Ignis cleaned the empty lunch box, he spoke up, directing his words to Noctis, who was sitting behind him at the dining table doing his homework. "So, I do not recall you ever mentioning Prompto before. Is he a new friend of yours?"

Noctis was quiet for a moment, as he often was, before responding, "I've totally mentioned him before."

"I would remember a name as unique as Prompto."

"I didn't refer to him by name back then."

Ignis paused, set the box down in the sink and turned to look at him. "Is that so?"

"I didn't really know his name when we first met." Noctis put his pencil down and looked up. "He was that chubby little kid I bumped into that one time. I helped him up. He rescued Pryna. Remember?" He added a shrug while "He kept avoiding me for a while, I don't know why. I think we're friends now."

"Well, that explains why your lunches have been coming back to me completely empty when you won't eat the same foods for supper." Ignis turned his attention back to the dishes.

"He likes your cooking, even the veggies. I like your cooking, no veggies." Noctis picked up his pencil, paused and then pushed his paper towards the edge of the table. "Help me with this one. I don't understand this sin and cos stuff."

Ignis finished the dishes, dried his hands, and removed his apron before settling at the table with the boy he would be mated to when the time comes. He helped him with his homework, tutoring him patiently through the subjects he couldn't or didn't want to understand. He prepared him a snack to get him through the rest of the evening. He did all this while juggling his own assignments for his final year. When Noctis retired to bed, Ignis stayed up even later to finish his studies and repair a lost button from the young prince's school jacket.

Meeting Prompto changed Ignis's daily routine just slightly. He didn't hand deliver the lunch the way he had that once, but he started packing the box to accommodate over 1200 calories. He included more vegetables and left them whole and visible. It was such a little thing, but it made Ignis's empty, unsatisfying life just a little more full.

Sometimes he wondered about whether or not he really was an omega. Omegas were supposed to find deep satisfaction in caring for their mates, in caring for little ones. Ignis did not. Instead he found it tiring, annoying, unfulfilling and even frustrating. Even more vexing was the fact that he had very few peers, he had no one he could compare his situation with. As far as he was concerned, he was alone despite the near constant presence of Noctis in his life.

A year passed and Ignis graduated with honors, and he continued to stay by the prince's side. Without classes, he was able to focus on his physical training should the need ever arise, after all; in addition to being Noctis's omega, he was also classified as part of the prince's Crownsguard, sworn to protect the prince until the end. He had been trained, at the start, with short distance daggers. He was trained to dodge in, attack and then run out. It was quick and clean method of dispatch. The extra training meant he was now able to learn how to lances. It was similar, it kept him out of the heat of battle, but delivered powerful blows when they landed.

As much as Ignis hated to admit it, with the world the way it was, he felt most comfortable here. Training. Fighting. Occasionally, if he was lucky, he was granted permission to leave the city limits and get real combat training with the beasts outside, and if he lingered late into the night, with the daemons.

The Prince's Shield went with him.

Gladiolus was nearly as wide as he was tall. Ignis felt dwarfed next to him, and the man's upbeat, assertive personality did not help make him feel any smaller. Just as Ignis was bred to become Noctis's omega, Gladiolus was bred to be Noctis's beta, just as his father had before him. His entire existence could be narrowed down to, "Protect the king or die trying". He was the closest thing Ignis had to a peer, and they bonded over it.

"That's disgusting," Gladiolus commented, as he watched Ignis dismantle the carcass of a daggerquill, cutting out it's breast with one of his knives. The dark glistening hunk of meat would cook up with a wonderful, strong gamey flavor.

"You've eaten daggerquill before."

"I've never watched you butcher one before!"

"You've sliced the heads off beasts!"

"Not for eating!" Gladiolus watched Ignis wrap the meat in some white butcher paper and tie a knot around the whole thing. "Why do you even bother anyway?"

"Aggressive as they are, daggerquills are innocent beasts that we are murdering for target practice. The least we could do is make use of what's left." Ignis pulled himself upright and cleaned his bloody hands with a kerchief from his back pocket. "Besides, diners are willing to pay for this. Why not turn a profit? If everything we do, we do for Noctis, we should at least find some benefit."

Gladiolus groaned at the reminder, and he scrubbed a hand through his dark hair. "How is that brat doing anyway? We've upped his weapons training, but he hasn't really gotten any better."

"He isn't motivated," was Ignis's response. "We give him everything on a silver platter, it's difficult to expect that he would approach anything with any sort of intensity. He has no reason to become a more powerful king, minus the ever present Niflheim threat looming overhead, and that threat has been here longer than he has."

A large, muscular arm draped itself over Ignis's broad shoulders. Gladiolus leaned the full weight of his six foot six frame against him, forcing him to stand his ground. Sometimes Ignis wondered if this was a form of strength training.

"Whaddya think?"

"What do I think about what, Gladio?"

"About Noct. About the prince. Your entire life has been spent being raised to be that boy's bitch, and you won't even have top billing."

Ignis shoved at Gladiolus, making an annoyed sound as he did. "Stop. That is not the point, lap dog."

Gladiolus buried his face into Ignis's nut brown hair, making loud snuffing noises as he did, refusing to let himself get pushed away that easily. The two of them had long ago established that their scents did nothing for each other. 14, 15 years old, tired and sweaty from a late night of sparring. They had thought it was a good idea, and as messy an attempt it proved to be, it really was a good idea. It cleared up any tension in the air before it could even build. "You're right. I am a lap dog. Noctis says fetch, I fetch. He says roll over, I roll over."

Unlike Ignis, who wore his clothes buttoned up and in layers, Gladiolus did what he could to show as much skin as possible, especially now that he was able to start getting the tattoos he had been talking about for years. That meant, from this angle, Ignis could see the faint, barely there, circular scar where neck met shoulder: the mark that results when an alpha claims another alpha. It bound them together like brothers. He reached for it, poking it.

"You're lucky," Gladiolus said slowly, as he lifted his face free from Ignis's hair. "You aren't marked. You smell like him, but you aren't marked. You could still get lucky. Meet someone. Have a proper romance."

"No. I would much rather not. Being with Noctis means I can save myself from suffering through the complications of feelings. It means my life is simple. I'll have his children if need be, I'll care for them, I'll care for him. The end."

"Right. You'll be whistling a different tune if you ever meet _the one_."

Ignis shrugged Gladiolus off his shoulders. "There is no such thing as _the one_ Gladio. That's just fairy tales and folklore. As lovely as it is to think about, to dream about, it will never happen and I'm okay with that." He adjusted his glasses. "I prefer things to be as black and white as possible. There's me, there's Noctis. Period."

"But--"

"Period." Ignis turned on his heel and started marching back towards the car. "Now, this conversation is done, or I am leaving you here."

Gladiolus chased after him, catching up with a jog. He slung an arm over his shoulders again, walking close before they were forced to part, climbing into the two front seats. He was due to pick Noctis up from school, and passed over the butcher paper wrapped piece of meat, telling Gladiolus to put it in the cooler so it doesn't spoil on the way. It wouldn't be the first time they'd arrived together to pick up the prince, and it certainly won't be the last, and as they pulled up to the school, Ignis couldn't help but notice that a certain blond was waiting with Noctis.

Ignis climbed out of the car to open the back seat.

"I'm bringing Prompto home tonight," was Noctis's explanation as he climbed inside.

"Hi!" Prompto greeted with a wide grin. "Nice to meet you again, Specs!"

"Specs?"

"Well, you got glasses and..." Prompto made a gesture, bringing his pointer and thumb together on both hands to form to o's before holding them in front of his face, imitating the very spectacles on Ignis's face. "Besides, Noct calls you Specs all the time."

Noctis reached a hand out and grabbed Prompto by the shoulder, dragging him into the back seat. "C'mon, I wanna go home. Stop chatting," he muttered in a low voice, not that it stopped Prompto, who was introducing himself now to the man in the other passenger seat.

"You must be Gladio! Noct's told me all about you! Nice to meetcha!"

Ignis heard the way Prompto did not include any form of possession when referring to the man next to him. He tried not to dwell on it. Gladiolus was still largely autonomous, despite having to bow at the whim of his alpha. As far as the majority were concerned, he was still his own person. The two got on like a wildfire, talking excitedly with each other, hands animated. Ignis drove mostly in silence, raising his voice only once, to ask what they might want to dinner. The responses were a mixed bag, and got what he expected from both Gladiolus and Noctis, but he did not expect Prompto to ask for something spicy.

That evening he made a sweet and peppery daggerquill curry.

It was easier for Ignis to keep his distance, to not try so hard to be part of the group. He ate at the same table as the other three, though he did not contribute as much to the conversation, but with both Gladiolus and Prompto, there was hardly any silence. He spoke up once, to assess whether or not the two boys had any assignments due the next day. Both shook their heads. Ignis didn't necessarily believe either of them, but it was their responsibility, not his.

Almost immediately afterwards, the three ended up crowded around the Gamestation, fighting with each other over who gets first player ( the prince won, of course), before settling in to play a game where they all tried to blow each other up . Ignis wasn't sure when it happened, but when he walked past after washing the dishes, Prompto had shoved a controller in his hand and insisted he join in. "This game," he said, "is even better with four people."

There was a reason why Ignis didn't play games very often, especially with Gladiolus and Noctis.

"Stop winning!" Noctis whined, throwing his controller on the sofa.

Gladiolus shoved at Ignis, making a similarly annoyed sound. "C'mon, let us normal guys get a win in!"

Ignis set the controller down on the coffee table in front of them. "You two will have plenty of opportunities to win, since I'm through with playing. I have to make lunch for tomorrow."

It was while he set about putting together the careful art form that is making a lunch box, that Prompto appeared in the kitchen. The blond was perched on his knees on the stool, leaning over the counter and watching him work. Ignis tried to ignore him, but there was something difficult about it. He was hyper aware of his presence. Prompto radiated something that Ignis couldn't quite describe, and he wasn't about to request putting his nose in that blond hair to work out his scent. Noctis had mentioned that every sign pointed to Prompto being a human; the most important detail being that he was adopted. There were very few places left in the world that maintained a population of Meds. Insomnia and Gralea being the two exceptions. 

"Thanks, by the way," Prompto broke the silence.

Ignis paused, between positioning the same little octopus wieners that Noctis so enjoys and glanced up. "For what, may I ask?"

"For making Noct's lunches a little bigger." Prompto stretched his arms above his head and settled a little more appropriately on the stool in a way that looked as though he were reassembling himself. "The only thing I know how to make are salads. It gets boring, and I can't live on bread alone. I'll get fat. I mean, trust me, I know. I've been there." He found a loose thread on the sleeve of his uniform jacket and started picking at it. "Your stuff's really good, though. I mean, those carrots? Delicious. Oh, and that green stuff from the other day?"

"Prompto."

"Oh, and then there was that stuff with the peppers, that was super delicious, and you also keep trying to hide those veggies in Noct's food. He doesn't realize that's why it tastes so good. And--"

"Prompto!"

The young man stopped and his freckled cheeks turned a bit pink. "Sorry."

Ignis closed up the lunch box, securing it shut with a rubber band. "Do you want me to make you lunch occasionally?"

"You'd do that for me?"

"There isn't a particular difference in effort or expense to make a second lunch, especially since I've graduated. In fact, it may help me utilize the contents of the refrigerator more efficiently. Less waste. Consider it economical." Ignis reached into one of the cabinets, pulling out the same dark navy lunchbox he had used for himself for the past five years. "There's leftover curry, if you'd like I can put that in for tomorrow."

"That would be so great. You really are a great cook, Spe- uh--"

"Specs is fine. Unusual, certainly, but fine."

"Thanks. I really mean it, thanks."

Making lunches for Prompto was a small change, but it was one that Ignis rather enjoyed. It gave him the opportunity to consider calories and nutrition a little more closely without attempting to hide it. He balanced out the lunch boxes again. 900 calories for Noctis, 800 calories for Prompto, based on relative height and daily energy expenditure. During those occasions when Prompto would spend the night, Ignis would volunteer to iron his jacket, repair any loose threads, replace any buttons. He folded the tasks into what he was already doing for the prince. There was something about caring for someone else other than Noctis that appealed to him. And, perhaps, if Ignis possessed anything resembling affection towards the crown prince, he was happy to know that the boy that grew up isolated had someone picked up someone that could be called a best friend. 

Another year passed, and graduation neared. That put the prince one year closer to adulthood and one year closer to marriage and mating. It also put the prince one year closer to his inevitable journey. It was tradition for the crown prince to go out and see the world. His father had done it, and his father's father. It was intended to groom Noctis, by visiting the tombs of his ancestors, he would grow stronger, have a deeper appreciation of where he came from, and he would know what out there beyond the city limits. It was intended to him to be ready to sit upon the throne when his time came, and it was long decided that Gladious and Ignis, as his Crownsguards, would be there beside him every step of the way.

It was a late night, just a few days from graduation, when Noctis approached Ignis with a single request. "I want Prompto to become a Crownsguard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods, do I have a lot to say about this fic. I almost feel bad to inundate you with notes, but I feel the need to get a few things off my chest. I've been writing this (there are like 6 written chapters so far) for the past... god, it feels like half a year of writing, and I've been nervous about it bothering to post it for ages. So I just feel like rambling anxiously. Apologies! 
> 
> Omegaverse is one of those guilty pleasure type kinks and I love it dearly, and while implied, referenced mpreg is a component of this fic, heat is very explicitly not. I thought it was important to mention this because it's such a huge part of so many omegaverse stories and I don't want you to be disappointed when you start to read through it. In fact, I've kind of gone out of my way to shape, what I think, is to be a very different omegaverse with it's own unique set of rules. 
> 
> That said, I really hope it doesn't bother anyone. I keep trying to argue with myself that I have a legitimate reason for making this an omegaverse. It started out as kind of a pathetic one shot, but it spiraled out of control. There is going to be quite a bit more to this story. There's all this other stuff around it that I want to write at some point to, other pairings, other characters, but I suppose this one is mostly Ignis and Prompto's story. I hope you like it, and I hope you stick with me, even if I am notoriously the slowest writer ever.


	2. Three Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind kudos and for those who left kind words. It makes me feel a little more comfortable posting more. This is Prompto's chapter, so I hope you enjoy.

At the age of fifteen Prompto knew three things to be true. One, he loved photography, he loved it more than anything. Photography filled the loneliness that weighed on him ever since he was old enough to know who and what he was. Photography helped him see the beauty in everything around him, and these days it reminded him to stop, take a breath and appreciate where he is. Two, he was never going to let himself be overweight ever again. When he was younger he filled the emptiness with food, stuffed himself with junk when no one was there to greet him, to care for him, to love him. Food filled that space temporarily and left a deeper and darker hole in its place. After all that hard work to get fit, to like looking at himself in the mirror, to feel good in his skin, he never wanted fall into that dark space again. And three, he would never, ever, in a million years ever reveal to anyone what he really was.

Memories from the time before Insomnia were vague, but Prompto knew exactly what they were, what they meant. He had not only been born in Niflheim, he was born to the Niflheim researcher, Besithia, the one responsible for creating the empire's super human army. No one knew what separated them from the humans they used to be, but Prompto knew that somewhere deep down inside he had whatever it was lurking in them, in him. Sometimes he wondered if he felt it, that the weird twisting and turning in his gut or a terrible itching in the long dark scar across his wrist, was his true nature trying to break free. He wondered if it meant he was transforming into something else, something worse. He never did. It was always something stupid, like indigestion, gas or muscle spasms.

At fifteen Prompto was only confident about those three things, but he was convincing himself about one more. He had admired the crown prince from afar, and then from a slightly more medium distance, and when they entered their first year of high school, he went out of his way to try to be friends. Noctis, from afar, seemed aloof. He seemed soft spoken and solitary. He seemed uninterested and bored. Noctis, up close, was a dweeb. He liked video games. He liked comic books. He liked animals. He hated studying. He loved sleeping.

Noctis was also a picky eater, that meant it did not take long before Prompto was stealing from the leftovers in his lunch box. Eating whatever vegetables the prince left behind sounded like a much healthier plan than living off bread alone, and whoever was making him those lunches was, in his humble opinion, an excellent cook. He enjoyed every bite he was allowed to have, especially once, when Noctis told him to just polish off what was left instead of pretending he didn't want more. Prompto also started making Noctis wait before tucking in, capturing a picture of the hand made lunch before every meal. He liked capturing what they were eating. It made him feel as though he were doing a better job about tracking his food.

Early mornings were reserved for jogging and on especially nice days Prompto was able to finish faster. Those were the days he liked to go to school early so he could settle in and greet his classmates. Today, however; he showed up just in time to see a slick dark sports utility vehicle pull up. There was only one person who could arrive in a car with that insignia on the back. Prompto stopped and watched as a tall caramel haired young man climbed out of the front passenger seat wearing the stripes of a senior. The man opened the rear door and Noctis appeared, looking sleepy with his tie undone. As the vehicle pulled away, Prompto watched the man carefully adjust the prince's tie and smooth the blazer over his shoulders before parting ways. Prompto watched the older teen walk past him, back straight, chest out.

There was a strange affection between the two that he struggled to describe. It wasn't as though they were brothers, it felt like something else. Something more and less simultaneously.

"Who was that?" Prompto found himself asking when Noctis finally joined him.

"Who was who?" Noctis sounded predictably sleepy the way he often did in the early mornings.

"The guy, the guy with your car and the tie and everything. The senior."

Noctis yawned and scratched the back of his head, as though he had been too tired to realize someone had been trying to straighten out his attire just five minutes earlier. When they arrived in their classroom and took their seats he finally answered. "Oh, that's just my Ignis."

"Your what?" Prompto had gotten lost. He wasn't asking about a possession, he had been asking about a person. "Does that mean butler or something in royal speak?"

"Huh? No. He's just Ignis. My Ignis." Noct paused and then his eyes widened slightly. "Wait, that's right. You're not just a civilian, you're adopted. You have no idea what I'm talking about."

Prompto nodded and then shook his head.

Noctis sighed and then wrinkled his nose. "Let me explain it at lunch. It's kind of hard to summarize. I'll bet you'll have tons of questions. Oh, darn. He forgot to make me lunch."

It took half a second for Prompto to put two and two together, and the idea of not eating Noctis's lunch was giving him anxiety. He realized in that moment how dependent on them he had become. "Wait, you mean... No lunch? Why no lunch?!"

"Oh yeah, I dunno. I didn't get one today. Guess I'm eating what you're eating." Noctis was rummaging around in his pockets. "How do you buy bread here?"

Prompto stuck a hand out to stop him, knowing full well that the prince never walked around with money in his pockets. "I'll grab some at break. Strawberry cream, right?"

"Right."

Maybe it should have been considered cheating, but whenever Prompto showed up at the cafeteria during lunch, he was always able to skip the line under the proviso that he was buying for the young prince. He snuck in front, apologizing in the friendliest voice to the person he cut off.

"One curry and one strawberry cream today, right?" The cafeteria worker recognized him.

"Make that two strawberry!"

"The prince is quite hungry today, hm?"

Prompto grinned, a little awkwardly in response, because he very rarely ever changed up his order, and he watch the lady gather the plastic bagged breads and passing it over the counter to him. "Thanks!" he called out as he took off after paying, jogging his way through the hallways back to the classroom. 

Noctis' head was on his desk, predictably. It was part of what made him so difficult to approach, he was always dosing off during breaks. Prompto grabbed his chair and turned it around to sit, dropping the bread on the surface. "Lunchtime!"

Blearily, Noctis reached for the bread, sitting up slowly. "Yum."

There was the sound of a throat clearing and then a tall shadow fell over the desk. Prompto watched as the bread was plucked out of Noctis's hand and a familiar looking lunchbox landed in between them.

"I've brought your lunch, Noct."

Prompto's eyes widened in excitement."All right!" The blond spoke up first, reaching for the box, removing the lid. He made an exaggerated motion of breathing in the smell of it. "Aw, it looks extra delicious today! I'll eat anything you don't want, 'kay?"

"Fine by me."

Prompto heard a throat clear again, and he paused, looking up after forgetting his manners in his joy at seeing that they would be able to eat something better than bread for lunch. The senior standing there was tall and slim, but he was broad shouldered and there was a certain air about him. Prompto wondered if he was imagining the sudden spicy smell that flooded his senses. He straightened up and stuck out his hand.

Warm. So warm. Prompto couldn't let go of his Ignis's hand. It was as though he were shaking hands with the warmest, fuzziest blanket, but without all the fuzziness. He couldn't even describe it. He kept pumping his fist, trying to compare it to something, anything. He felt a moment of loss when Ignis pulled his hand back, and made niceties with Noctis before departing. His attitude was comparatively cold to the heat of his palm.

"So that's _your_ Ignis." Prompto plucked out a meatball speckled with green, tossing it into his mouth. "What do you mean by that?"

Noctis gave a heavy sigh, as if he were making a great sacrifice by talking about this. "It should be in our history book actually." He dusted off his hands and reached into his bag, pulling out the text. He flipped through the pages before finding it, a short chapter in the history of Insomnia.

"A brief history of Meds," Prompto read slowly.

The book detailed the ancient history of a subspecies of Homo sapiens, that had evolved separately from Homo sapiens sapiens, otherwise known as the normal, every day humans. The others, known scientifically as Homo sapiens medeis, while identical in appearance to humans, possessed a completely different sexual morphology. 

"Another difference," Noctis added, while Prompto continued to skim the text, "Is that we can use magic. That's why Insomnia is so safe, why we have that wall."

"Wait, so Niflheim...?"

"I don't know when it happened, because my old man doesn't like talking about it, but when the empire started conquering the world, they gathered up every Med they could find and made them a part of their army. That's why they were so powerful. Lucis became a safe haven for people like us, and eventually..." Noctis waved a hand. "Now we're all either here, or there."

Prompto was nodding, a little overwhelmed by the information. It seemed impossible, but at the same time there was a nagging in the back of his mind, a niggling thought him that was reminding him he's from Niflheim. He tried to push it away. "So, then, why is he _your_ Ignis? Why not just Ignis?"

Noctis shrugged. "Well, because he is mine. He's supposed to be my omega. He's been promised to me since forever."

"Promised?"

"When I'm old enough, I'll claim him as a mate."

Prompto shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to wrap his head around it. Ignis looked so tall, so proud, so confident. He didn't match the image that had been painted by the textbook, some small, effeminate, delicate thing who only wanted to have children and be a mother. "So, wait. I thought you were engaged to the princess of Tenebrae."

"Yeah, that too." When Prompto's face twisted into an even more confused expression, Noctis gave a long, annoyed sigh, as though he had told this story a thousand times before. "She's not-- We're both alphas. When two alphas mate, they have a very low chance of reproducing. In my case, since I'll need an heir, I have an omega. For back up, i guess."

Prompto made a face. He was old enough to start expressing interest in people, to start to think about sex, but listening to Noctis explain all this, straight faced, his entire romantic life planned out in advance. The people he would spend his entire life with ready and waiting for him when he's come of age. It was a little sobering. It was mostly sad. "So neither of you- I mean, all three of you - none of you will ever have the chance to have a real, old school romance? No, sparks flying, violins swelling, flower petals swirling around when you meet for the first time?"

Noctis stared at him, straight faced. "You read way too many girly comics."

'No, but a romance, Noct! That's what life is all about!"

"Yeah, civvie life."

Prompto settled in his seat a little more comfortably, picking at the food again, refusing to let it interfere with his appetite. "Do you love them?"

"Ew." Noctis made a face, and then after a moment of thought, his expression softened. "I mean, I love them, but not like that." He pushed the food closer to Prompto. "Gimme your bread. Ignis stole mine. You can eat the whole lunch if you want, I've lost my appetite."

After that lunch, Prompto had made the mental note to not as questions about the complicated relationships that royals endure. It only made him sad and confused to think about anyway. The only exception was that he thought about Noctis's Ignis. It was hard not to, knowing he was the one making their lunches every day, and he couldn't help but notice they were starting to show up a little more full, a little more stuffed, with foods that the Prince would otherwise avoid. It was a little thing, but it made Prompto feel as though he were being thought of. No one ever thought of him.

It would take nearly a year of small additions to Noctis's lunchbox before he would suddenly start getting lunches of his own. It was so awkward to begin with, because he hadn't asked Ignis to do it, the man volunteered, and he had tried to protest, but Ignis would hear none of it. So when he waited for Noctis to arrive in that slick black SUV of his, Ignis would climb out, adjust the prince's tie and hand them both their lunches before driving away. Every single lunch made Prompto's chest feel just a little bit more full.

The same night that Ignis had offered to start making him lunches was also the same night he met the giant of a man, Gladiolus. He was only three years older, but he carried himself like a rock star. He oozed so much confidence and strength that it was a little overwhelming, but the man proved himself to be a just as giant of a teddy bear. He offered to train Prompto, to give him more to do than just running. 

Gladiolus as a brute. He pushed Prompto harder than he had ever pushed himself. He was good at running. He was good at cardio. It was how he lost the weight in the first place, but then suddenly he was being pushed into things he had never done before. Squats, burpees, lunges. There were weights, so many weights. Kettle bells, bar bells. He was jumping rope. They were doing it outside, inside, rain or shine.

It was easy to describe the transition from junior to senior year as feeling like one gigantic bruise. Worst of all, Gladiolus never took "No" for an answer, and despite his fears that he was being turned into someone as massive as the man training him, he didn't. Looking at himself in the mirror, after months and months of training, he saw someone that looked like himself, but he was slimmer in the waist, his shoulders were broader. His arms were so toned, he felt like he could never wear sleeves again. 

He posed. And then posed again. He took a few pictures of himself, and somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a voice saying, "This is what love is, people that are there for you, that are willing to support you and put up with you." Getting the courage to introduce himself to Noctis, to worm his way into trying to be his friend was the best thing that ever happened to him.

When Prompto entered his senior year in high school, he knew four things to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I forgot to mention in the previous chapter that there's a lot of "Japanese High School" influence in a lot of the shape of the sort of "civilian" world, and that's mostly based on the way school was depicted in Brotherhood. Once they graduate that sort of aspect will kind of fall aside, but hopefully that will explain all that nonsense about bread and lunch boxes and stuff. 
> 
> Also, I had written a much longer version of where the whole Alpha/Beta/Omega thing came from in this universe, but I ended up cutting most of it out. It kind of read a little too much like a chapter in a text book or something....


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm just the worst when it comes to updating my fics if I don't finish them ahead of posting... Thanks again, for all the supportive comments!

"I want Prompto to become a Crownsguard."

Ignis was forced to double take when he heard what was being presented to him. Noctis was standing there with a serious expression on his face; it was a look of determination that very rarely ever appeared there. It was difficult to say no to a face like that, especially when it seemed there were so few things in the world Noctis would let himself be passionate for.

Ignis folded his arms over his chest. "What are you talking about?"

"I want Prompto to become a Crownsguard," Noctis repeated, as though it were the simplest and easiest thing in the world.

"It's not-- Noct, you know that Crowsguard are for people like us. Perhaps your friend, Prompto, would be better suited for Kingsglaive."

The prince shook his head and his brow furrowed in annoyance. "But Kingsglaive don't come with me when I go on that trip."

"Oh." Ignis was quiet for a moment there, as he nudged at his glasses self consciously. "That's what this is all about, is it?" It seemed obvious now, after all Prompto had become such an important part of Noctis's life in the last two and a half years, he couldn't imagine that prince would want to leave him behind when that time came. It didn't seem right, really, but Prompto was standard, he wouldn't have the abilities to make it as a Crownsguard, it was simple biology. "There is a chance that we would be severely handicapped to bring along someone that can't tap into magic."

"He's been training with Gladio for over a year now. He's gotten pretty impressive, I think. I haven't really been paying attention, but if we give him some long range weapons he might be able to stand a chance." Noctis paused, waited a moment and then kept going before Ignis could muster up a protest, "I know, but I can't leave him behind. You, me, Gladio. We're all he has. If we leave..."

The words were exactly what Ignis both needed and did not need to hear. He had grown, in a way, quite fond of Prompto, though their paths crossed very infrequently. He had gotten into a habit of taking care of him, indirectly as it may have been. His brow furrowed and he folded his arms across his chest. "Have you asked your father?"

The answer should have been obvious, but sometimes Ignis liked to make Noctis confront these issues head on. He watched the Prince's face twist slightly. "No, I was hoping you would."

"And why is that?"

"Because, he can't say no to you."

Ignis sighed, because this was true. King Regis had a very difficult time saying no to him, despite him not yet being mated to his son. "Are you willing to take responsibility if Prompto were to get hurt on this journey?"

Noctis took in a deep breath. "Yeah, of course. I would rather he be with us when he gets hurt, than be alone for however long it take us, besides who's gonna feed him lunch once you're gone?"

"You had to go there."

"It's in your nature."

It was a common argument with people like them, that their aggression, or their passiveness came from their nature. It designated their roles in life. An omega was not going to become a leader and an alpha was not about to become a nanny. They simply lacked the capacity to handle it, same as they could not rid themselves of their innate characteristics, much as they wished they could. Noctis was trying to play to Ignis's nature of wanting to see that others were cared for. It worked, whether he liked it or not.

Bringing the issue to King Regis was not easy. He was already inundated with work and the needs of his people and Ignis hated to have to approach him over a request as simple as this. His role as the prince's omega was the only thing that helped him slip through the wait, to approach him in the citadel one early morning after he had dropped Noctis at school (with a lunch for him and for Prompto, as usual).

The King was sitting on his throne, a hand to his furrowed brow. He was deep in thought, and Ignis suspected it had something to do with his son's impending journey away from the city. He looked older, much older, than his age. He was worn down by the city, by the magic needed to keep the citizens safe. The King, per tradition, was the only one who could maintain the wall that protected the city from the empire of Niflheim, and the daemons that emerged from the shadows. It took its toll, certainly, the Ignis wondered just how many more years the old alpha had left. The king raised his head and regarded Ignis for a moment.

"Your Majesty." Ignis lowered himself to one knee, arm across his chest in a display of respect and subservience.

"Ignis, you're looking well." Regis was making a gesture with his hand, telling him to stand on his feet. He was a man of tradition, but there was a part of him that still seemed uncomfortable with most gestures that reminded him of his class and position. Rumor had it, he had made his journey around Lucis and the world with an older, standard, foul-mouthed civilian named Cid and he wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Thank you, sir."

"I take it you have come here on behalf of my son, given that you very rarely ever make requests of your own?"

"Yes sir."

"And he knows that I can't say no to you."

"That is correct sir."

Regis shifted in his throne and amused smile played at his lips, just barely hidden by his salt and pepper beard. "Out with it, then, so that i may say yes and my son can rejoice in his foolish request."

Ignis sucked in a breath, hesitated and then spoke. "He wants to bring a civilian with him. He wants him to be a Crownsguard."

"He is not unlike me, but I did not request that my old friend become a Crownsguard." The king gave a soft chuckle in amusement, his head shaking. "And his reasoning being?"

"Honestly, I believe it is simply that they are best friends, and they are all each other has. Well, each other and apparently myself and Gladiolus."

"And what do you think of this, Ignis? Honestly."

"I think..." Ignis's voice trailed off. It wasn't often he was asked for his legitimate opinion. He played the role of retainer, advisor, nanny, caretaker, but he never had reason to be outspoken about his own wants, needs and much less his own thoughts. "I don't necessarily think it to be a terrible idea. Prompto is, if anything, earnest. I do not doubt that he would be willing to die to protect your son, but I worry about his place in a fight. He may not have the skill set required of him. He may be a burden."

"Noctis does not leave until he reaches adulthood. There is time yet for training, don't you agree?" The king sounded far too amused and Ignis was forced to agree. "If you can prove this 'Prompto' suitable for Crownsguard, then I will approve your silly little request. I would like to see you be personally responsible for his self-defense training."

Ignis's eyebrows raised in disbelief and his glasses slipped down his nose. He pushed them up nervously. There was a small part of him that actually liked the idea of going out more, training more. That it was also with with Prompto was a small bonus, though he certainly would not admit that to himself. "Oh, no. I couldn't. I hear he's already done some training with Gladiolus, perhaps he would be better suited to continue this endeavor?"

"Gladiolus is talented, yes, but his skill set would not qualify as self-defense."

Ignis suddenly felt foolish for missing the key words in the king's prior statement. He lowered his gaze to the freshly waxed floor. He could see his reflection. "Yes of course, my mistake."

"Come now, Ignis. You act as though this will be a hardship for you, when it's the perfect opportunity for you to get out more and train more." Regis had descended the steps, and placed a large, warm hand on Ignis's shoulder. He was strong, brave and confident; Ignis often times had a hard time associating father and son, they seemed so different. He couldn't imagine any time when Regis would rather sleep for most the day instead of doing his job. "Think of this as my gift to you."

Lifting his head, Ignis was able to look straight into the king's grey eyes. Amusement twinkled back at him, despite the tired, cloudiness they often possessed these days. He lifted his arm, and crossed it over his chest before bowing stiffly at the waist. "Thank you, your majesty."

It would take several more days after Ignis delivered the good news to Noctis, the same night Prompto rode home with them after school. He all smiles and positively vibrating with excitement. "Noctis told me everything. He said you'd be training me, and if I can prove myself then I can definitely become a Crownsguard and go with you guys when you leave and I'm really looking forward to it, and I promise I'll do my best and--" He babbled away the entire way to the training facility. When he jumped out of the car, Gladiolus was already there to give him a high five.

Ignis watched three men get along like a house on fire. He felt not unlike that night when Prompto first met Gladiolus. It reminded him that he was different from them, that alphas and standard males had more in common with each other than with an omega like him. It was while he hung back, remaining distant, Prompto approached him with what looked like a fleeting expression of concern that dissolved quickly into a grin.

"So what's it gonna be? Broadswords? Long swords? Oh, short swords? Shields? Daggers! I hear you use daggers."

"Firearms."

Prompto almost immediately deflated and Ignis remembered feeling much the same way when he was younger. "Wait. What. Why?"

"Because they are easier to master while keeping you out of harm's way. We want you protecting Noctis, not dead."

"Oh."

Ignis gestured with his hand, a motion to have Prompto follow him over to the pellet guns that were often used for initial training. They had the size and weight of a real gun, but they lacked the same explosive power and deadliness. He reached in and pulled out one, one that he remembered using when he first started training, a simple, uncomplicated pistol with a fairly long range and strong simulated backfire. He held it out.

Prompto flinched at first. Guns were, after all, not just uncommon in Insomnia, but frowned upon. The fear of the weapon was put into children at a very young age. Eventually, after staring it down, he reached for it, plucking it from Ignis's hand. It felt heavy and awkward. He felt the bumps and ridges and shape of the pistol, curled his finger experimentally on the trigger. He clicked it a few times and the sound made a chill run down his spine. The action felt almost natural to him, as if it had been missing from his life. It was almost as if it were filling that empty void inside him. "Why... why is this even here?"

"We were all taught, at one point, how to use a firearm. We know that Niflheim specializes in firearms, and they always say to know your enemy."

Ignis's words made Prompto pause. He lowered the weapon slowly. Niflheim was why firearms were so taboo in Insomnia. Niflheim was why the weapon struck fear into the hearts of so many people and Niflheim was likely the reason why the gun felt so comfortable in his hand the longer held it. Unconsciously, he clicked the trigger again before Ignis reached for him, cupping his hands over Prompto's. Carefully, he manipulated the finger Prompto held so eagerly over the trigger, pulling it away, stretching it out along the barrel of the pistol instead. "Gun safety."

A flush of embarrassment turned Prompto's pale, freckled cheeks a shade of red. He could feel his face burning. "Sorry, I--"

"We do not fight to kill, we fight to defend. We are not Niflheim. We are not looking to conquer anyone, we are looking to survive." Ignis pulled away, and he folded his arms patiently over his chest, nudged his glasses back up his nose, and scrutinized the young man for a long moment. "We'll start with the basics first."

It would not have been fair to call Prompto dedicated. It would not have been appropriate to call him devoted. He started to live for it. He was there every morning for strength training with Gladiolus, and there every night with Ignis for weapon training and military education. He was literally playing over a decade of catch up so he could follow his best friend on his journey and he was loving every minute of it. It gave his once empty life so much purpose. He was going to be a Crownsguard.

"Honorary," Ignis corrected as he fitted Prompto with his new uniforms. He hovered over him from behind, looking him over. All this training had been good to him. His thin frame had bulked up. His shoulders felt broader, he felt stronger. He had even gotten into the bad habit wearing things without sleeves. He thought he looked amazing in his casual uniform. The formal raiment however, was something else entirely. It hung awkwardly on his youthful shape and emphasized his baby face. Ignis smoothed his hands over the shoulders, checking the fit. At twenty years old, the uniform dress was designed with a little more give in the shoulders, room to grow. "Without access to magic, you can only be considered an honorary Crownsguard."

"I'm okay with that. I just want to be with you guys. So far, this has been the best experience."

"That's because it's been easy so far."

"Honestly, I don't care how hard it gets. I feel like I belong for once in my life." Prompto looked at himself in the mirror, looked at the strong man staring back at him. If someone had gone back in time to when he was ten and told him that this was his future, he would have laughed and resigned himself to his solitary, overweight life. He sighed, and started undoing the buttons of the jacket, shrugging his shoulders, letting Ignis help him out of it. "If I were like you, I could be a real Crownsguard, right?"

Their eyes met through the mirror. "Like me?"

Prompto lowered his gaze to his feet. "You know, like you. And Noctis. And Gladio."

"Ah, you mean a Med." Ignis took a step back as Prompto slipped out of the gilded shirt, made to look as though it were woven with mythril. "Not human."

"Yeah. I mean, how do you know you're like _that_? Do you feel different? Do you just know instinctively?"

Ignis sighed, leaning back slightly as he watched Prompto undress the rest of the way, watched Prompto pull on his jeans and his sweatshirt. Ignis's brow was furrowed in something resembling frustration, considering the best way to explain it. "If you were like me," he finally said, breaking the awkward silence, "You would know."

"Like... you?"

One of the things Ignis hated more than anything else was describing how and why he was different. In his world, he preferred things to be as plain and as straightforward as possible. He preferred perfect clarity whenever he could, but his biology alone conflicted with exactly that. He straddled that line between human male and human female. He was both and he was neither at the same time, and he hated every moment of it. He made a sound of discomfort. "Yes. Like me. Male Omegas like myself have very unique genitalia. If you were an omega, you would know. I could show you, but it would be very inappropriate for both parties involved."

Prompto held his hands up in awkward protest, cheeks turning a bit pink. "N-no. That's... that's okay." He hadn't intended to make a face, but he did. He didn't exactly like the idea of being an omega, but the thought obviously crossed his mind on more than one occasion. He was smaller than most men his age. He was weaker. He always struggled with his weight and that soft layer of fat that persisted around his middle no matter how hard he worked. The books he had read, after he had learned about people like Noctis and the others, always painted omegas as feminine, soft, caring, emotional. It was almost reassuring to know that it was impossible to be an omega, but he was all of those things, if not more. Ignis, on the other hand, was not. How could someone as masculine and as confident as Ignis be an omega? It almost felt as though their lives should have played in reverse.

Ignis sighed and pushed a hand through his ash brown hair. "Alternatively, you can be scented, to help determine if you're an Alpha like Noctis or just human."

"What's that mean?"

"Scents... they're the old world way of identifying people like us, before we were all gathered into Insomnia and held captive Gralea. We could find each other through scent, who's alpha, who's omega, our family, our friends, our mates. But we've evolved since then. Our olfactory senses are not as strong as they were fabled to be. It isn't accurate. Some of us can't distinguish scents at all, and with the popularity of perfumes and scented body sprays and washes and soaps, it's just not sensible. It is technically not impossible."

"Can you...?" Prompto was looking at the floor. He kicked his foot awkwardly. "I mean, are you able to...?"

Ignis sniffed a few times. He had only done it a few times in the past, most notably with Gladiolus and that had been experimental at best, and not a very successful one at that. The only scent he was able to recognize was Noctis's, and that was because of constant exposure. He recognized Noctis's scent the way a mother would recognize her own children. "I am able to, yes, but I don't think I am very good at it. My nose isn't reliable, so to speak. We could ask someone older, they have more experience. The Amiticia's butler might be suitab-"

"No!" Prompto interrupted him. "I mean, no. I don't..." He trailed off, unsure of why he was so determined to protest. He wanted to know, but at the same time, he didn't want everything to change.

After a moment of silence, Ignis broke it with a sigh, and he stretched out his arms, opening them wide as if beckoning for a hug. "Come here."

Prompto hesitated.

"I'm not going to do anything weird, but I am unable to smell you from over there."

It took a moment longer before Prompto approached, walking slowly, inching towards Ignis until he was close enough to rest his head on the taller man's shoulders - not that he would, or anything. Ignis wrapped a warm hand around the back of his head and pulled him in the rest of the way so that their bodies were nearly touching and he took a deep breath before pushing his nose into soft, fluffy, blond hair. Time seemed to stop, and Prompto was all too aware of Ignis breathing in his scent. He thought that he must smell as gross and as sweaty as he suddenly felt. He had skipped his shower this morning after training, so Ignis was probably disgusted and the silence seemingly stretched on and on.

Ignis had, over the years, gotten used to Prompto's warmth, the buzzing that accompanied it every time they touched. He had come to ignore it, but this was the first time he had ever had the opportunity to really smell him. Prompto's scent, as it turned out, was unusual and Ignis could not quite place it. Humans had a musty sort of smell, something resembling soil and earth. Male alphas smelled brighter, more distinct, like wet grass and sea water. Prompto's scent resembled neither of these things. His scent was faintly metallic and spiced. There was something just slightly off about it, and he took his time, breathing it in, nose snuffling through Prompto's soft blond hair. Ignis hated to admit that it was rather appealing, and he took longer than he should have intended. When he realized he was sort of enjoying himself, he forced himself to pull away. He made a thoughtful sound, which made Prompto look up at him.

"So?"

"You smell different."

"And?"

Ignis tilted his head. "And, what?"

"That was totally a non-answer. Am I human? Am I like Noctis?"

"Honestly? I have never scented anyone quite like you. It is not human, but it's not alpha. It's simply...." Ignis paused, searching for a word, for something to say to describe it. He searched for someway to describe the indescribable. "It's Prompto," he finally decided. "You smell like Prompto."

The answer should have been a disappointment, but somehow being told by Ignis that he didn't smell the way humans smelled, that he didn't smell the way alphas smelled brought back old feelings of not belonging, old feelings of being something indescribable, old feelings of being from Niflheim. Prompto bit his bottom lip. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Ignis took a step back, and pushed up at his glasses, which had been knocked askew from his sniffing. There was something else about Prompto's scent that was bothering him, but it wasn't warning him to put his guard up, and it was so subtle that from a few steps back Ignis wouldn't have been able to pick him up out of a blind line up. Humans and alphas smelled much stronger than him. He offered Prompto a slight smile. "At least you don't have to worry about being resigned to a life of subjugation should you ever be mated." He made the comment with a slight lilt to his voice, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is that what it'll be like for you? When you and Noctis...?"

"I would like to think that Noctis will be an understanding mate, if I've raised him properly."

The detour did not last, and an awkward, pregnant silence hung between them. Prompto was staring at the floor, curling his toes on the carpet. Ignis, despite of or perhaps because of all his years raising Noctis, did not have the compassion and empathy necessary to offer comfort the way humans did. Instead he wrapped his arms around the young man, ran his fingers through his hair and held him. He felt Prompto shudder.

"H-hey. Do me a favor?"

"And what would that be?"

"Don't tell anyone about this. I mean, about you smelling me, and me not knowing what I am. If I really am something else, something different, I don't want to know, and I don't want Noctis to know. Let me just be... me."

The sigh that followed, that responded to Prompto's simple, meager request, sounded long, drawn out and tired, though Ignis did not intend for it to come across that way. It was the sigh of someone who was blissfully patient while lacking the skill set to offer words of comfort. "I already told you," Ignis managed after a moment's pause, "You smell like you, that's all that matters."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos from the last chapter! I hope I don't lose you this time around, because this chapter is when we introduce the Kingsglaives and shit gets real.

Prompto draped himself across Noctis's bed, groaning. His body ached from the long day of training with Gladiolus, made worse when the Amicitia patriarch decided to join them for the second half. Clarus, as it turned out, pushed his son even harder than Gladiolus pushed him. "When is all this training gonna end?"

Noctis was boneless on his plush couch, staring up at the ceiling. In comparison to Prompto's training, he had spent the day with Ignis, forced to do bureaucratic activities. He was still going to be king someday, and while self defense and weapons training was important, knowing how to rule was even more crucial. "Never. It'll never end. But when we finally go on that trip, it'll be like a month long vacation."

"When's that gonna be?"

"Couple of weeks. You can last that long, right?"

Prompto groaned again, shoved his face into Noctis's pillow. He kicked his feet while he heard the door open, and then felt the bed sag under the weight of Gladio joining him. There was a distinct smell of sweat and pastries that accompanied him, and Prompto lifted his head from the pillow to see Ignis standing over Noctis, holding a tray of sweets.

Lately Prompto had been finding himself experiencing a twinge of jealousy every time he saw Ignis with Noctis. He couldn't put the reasoning in words, whether it was because he wished someone would take care of him the same way, or if it was because he knew that someday, in the future, Ignis would belong to Noctis wholly and completely. Prompto turned on the bed, watching as Ignis pushed the hair from Noctis's eyes, as Noctis reached up for a pastry and eat without letting the enthusiasm show on his face.

Gladio leaned with his full weight against Prompto's back. Prompto could feel the hot breath against his ear as he spoke in a low voice, "They look good together."

Noctis had budged over on the couch, making space for Ignis to sit. He moved to put his head on his lap. He looked cozy, eyes half shut in a sleepy expression. Ignis's fingers ran through his dark hair. Prompto bit his tongue before speaking. "Yeah, they do."

"S'what happens when you spend nearly every waking moment with someone. Ignis has been groomed to belong to no one else but the prince."

"I hear you two talking about us," Ignis scolded, brow just slightly furrowed.

"It's a compliment!" Gladio protested, sitting up straighter on the bed. "You two are cute. You'll make cute babies together."

Noctis groaned and swatted a hand out in the direction of the bed. "Shut up, I don't want to hear that."

Prompto watched as the blood crept up from beneath the collar of Ignis's shirt, his face flushing. He could hear Gladio and Noctis arguing back and forth around them, but in the moment his attention was focused solely on the only omega in the room. Every since he had closed that distance between them, let Ignis smell him, he found himself more and more caught up in his presence. He wondered if that was the real power of an omega, of why they are considered sexy and alluring while also being maternal and loving.

Wrapped up in his arms like that, Ignis had smelled crisp and fresh, like cool, clean water or an autumn breeze. Prompto hadn't realized he was committing the scent to memory until late that night, when the thought of it drifted into his mind.

Their eyes met, and Ignis smiled gently in his direction. It had been several weeks since that day, and Ignis had kept his promise. No one else knew what happened. "How is your training going, Prompto?"

The question was simple. it was straightforward and somehow Prompto still had a difficult time answering. "It uh-- it was-- It was good! Gladio is a beast, though. I think he's gonna be the death of me."

"And well he should. There's always the chance that Niflheim will be there when we leave, and we need to be prepared."

Niflheim was a constant threat, looming in the distance, that Insomnia was safe at all was by the good graces of the royal family. The city was crowded with Meds and crowded with humans who had lost their homes after the Empire invaded their lands. That Insomnia welcomed them with open arms meant their army, while not as efficient as Niflheims, was large in number and filled with people who have lost their homes and were looking to avenge the deaths of their loved ones. One step above the army were the Royal Guards, divided into two parts. Kingsglaive, the king's sword, were the humans that the royal family deemed worthy to allow within the halls of the citadel. They were considered the greatest human defenders that Insomnia had to offer. Crownsguard were the shield of the royal family and were kept the closest to them. Crownsguard were expected to give their lives for the protection of the king. Every alpha that joined their ranks were marked by their king, or the one who would be their king. It was considered the greatest display of servitude an alpha could offer.

Prompto was neither of these things. At best he was, as Ignis had put it, honorary Crownsguard, and stayed closer to the royal family than any other human. He knew things about Noctis, about Gladiolus, about Ignis and the King that no human should have known, and occasionally he could feel it, eyes boring holes into the back of his blond head. It was the gaze of Kingsglaive who resented him, who wondered why they would always be kept one step back from the royal family when a human with no combat training could stand beside the prince without any repercussions. There was one Kingsglaive, however, who more than just tolerated him.

Crowe was an orphan, and befriended Prompto under the misapprehension that his family had also been lost after an attack from Niflheim. He did not have the heart to correct her, and they bonded over their mutual feelings of confusion regarding their orientations. Crowe was more than just talented, but there was no proving she was anything more than human.

"I have Libertus wrapped around my little finger. He's like my own personal beta." Crowe was holding up her pinky finger, and wriggling it in the air to emphasize her point. Prompto wasn't sure how he had let himself get convinced to come out with her and some of the other Kingsglaive, but here he was, awkward, uncomfortable and surrounded by humans. "You know, if I were an alpha, I would have marked you ages ago."

"If Libertus were a Meddy, he'd be an omega bitch," Luche said the words with a sneer, using an offensive slur that Prompto only heard when from people who were not Lucian.

"I would not!"

"He's kind of right. Omegas are supposed to be sexy and alluring not... not Libertus." Compared to Luche's expression, Nyx's was one of pure amusement. He was playful and teasing, elbowing Libertus with a smirk.

"I call bullshit. That bitch that follows the prince around shrivels up my balls like nothing else."

The words made Prompto cringe, though he wasn't certain if it was because people were looking at Ignis in that way, or if were because Luche was so proud to insult him.

"Shut it, Luche. No one wants to hear about your balls," Libertus muttered.

"Why? Because we have a Med lapdog among us? If he's going to be sucking alpha cock, he better be ready to hear what real humans think about those freaks." Prompto tried to lean away as Luche reached across the table and swatted at him with one of the skewers he had been eating. Prompto felt crumbs of charred meat splatter on his cheek, and he rubbed at them with a frown. "How's it taste, Prompto? Alpha cum?"

At this distance, Prompto could see it, a long dark scar across the back of Luche's right wrist that looked more familiar than he dared to admit. He tightened his hand on his own wrist, feeling the terry cloth band underneath. "I don't--" In the moment it distracted him, he wasn't able to return with a quip as quickly as he typically could. He struggled to think of something to say.

Blessedly, Crowe's hand shot out, grabbing at Luche. "Stop it. We're all lapdogs. Don't forget that you serve the king just the same as we do."

The break was all Prompto needed and he somehow managed to laugh, lips breaking into a grin. "Don't worry about it! He's probably just jealous because no one loves him. It's okay, Luche, we're all here for you."

Luche wrenched his arm free from Crowe's grasp. There was a look of disdain on his face as he pushed himself to his feet , hands pounding on the wooden table. "Fuck this. You people are so busy worshiping the ground they walk on, you don't see how they're using us." He reached over and flipped one of the plates, scattering it's contents on the ground before stalking off.

A pregnant pause hung in the air as the group around the table watched the Kingsglaive disappear into the crowd of civilians. Prompto shifted uncomfortably on the wooden bench, before Libertus patted him on the back and broke the awkward silence with that boisterous laugh of his. Things weren't comfortable, they could never be comfortable. The Kingsglaive were made of men whose homes had been lost when Niflheim blazed through, conquering nations, and Prompto would always be an outcast. He felt it too, despite how they tried to defend him. The conversations through the rest of the night were stilted, the voices of humans trying their best to not offend someone so close to the royal family.

Despite the attitudes Prompto was given, he tried to show the Kingsglaive as much respect as he could muster, even to Luche, who tried on several occasions to trip him when their paths crossed in the hallways. He especially showed respect to Captain Drautos. There were many stories of the captain single handedly fighting off Niflheim troops, that his very presence was enough to cause whole armies to retreat, and despite his reputation he still showed kindness to civilians and to the Kingsglaive. When called, he could stand beside King Regis as proudly as any Crownsguard.

Respectful as he was, that didn't mean Prompto were any less skittish around the captain. The last thing he wanted to do, was be trapped in a room alone with him. He felt a chill down his spine spine any time he felt Drautos's gaze on him. He got the feeling that Drautos truly hated the people of Niflheim, that all Drautos needed to do was look at him and he would know the truth.

Prompto shot off several rounds in Crowe's direction. She had invited him out for a quick sparring session, insisting that she needed to keep up with the guys, that Nyx had such an impressive showing on their last mission out that she wanted to show him up next time. He was more than happy enough to help her with the task, and his weapons were as close to battling a Niflheim soldier than anything else. He watched her leap out of the way of his spray of bullets before she was throwing a small vial, that shattered when it landed. She was unnaturally skilled at making and using potions. She was the only Kingsglaive with that sort of talent. It created a small explosion that kicked up the dust and dirt around it, swirling it through the air, obscuring his vision, making it hard to breathe. It was the perfect distraction, just enough so that Crowe could move in quickly and shove the handle end of her knife against Prompto's stomach.

"And you're dead," she said, as she twisted the knife, emphasizing how easily she had taken him down.

Tumbling backwards dramatically, Prompto fell to the ground, groaning as though he really had been stabbed in the stomach. "Oh no," he moaned, "you got me!"

Crowe stuck her foot out and kicked him. "That's not realistic at all! A real Niff soldier would just fall down and die. Quietly."

Prompto rolled over onto his stomach and continued to make exaggerated dying noises. "Ugh, blah, gugh, I'm dead, I'm dying. Killed by the greatest member of the Kingsglaive!"

The correct response was for Crowe to sit down on his back, weighing Prompto into the dirt. She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you ever wonder," she started after a moment of silence, "What it would have been like if we had a place to belong?"

Propping himself up onto his elbows, Prompto lifted his face up from the dirt. Gladio would have been proud of him, though he doubted he'd be able to do push up the way he'd seen Gladio do with Ignis. "We do. You have the Kingsglaive and I have the Crownsguard, honorary as I may be."

"No, I didn't mean it quite like that. I meant a world without war. A world where you and I wouldn't have lost our families."

Prompto groaned and pushed himself up a little more, and he felt Crowe grab onto the collar of his shirt to keep from falling. "If there was a world without war, if I hadn't been given up for adoption, I never would have met Noctis, and if I never met Noctis, I never would have met Gladiolus... and Ignis." He collapsed, unable to roll himself over, Crowe's deceptive weight holding him down. "And you never would have met Nyx and Libertus."

"Why do you have to say Libertus?" Crowe finally moved to her feet, and Prompto let out a sigh as he rolled over onto his back. His entire uniform was filthy with dust and sand and dirt.

"Because, I see the way he looks at you. He calls you his little sister same as everyone else, but his eyes say something else entirely."

Crowe kicked more sand onto him. Despite the scowl she was trying to wear, her lips were twisted into a slight smile. "Shut up. You're disgusting, look at you. It's like you've been rolling around in a litter box."

Prompto's lips split into an amused grin, and he sat up. Despite attempting to dust himself off, his hands only spread more dirt on his uniform. He could already imagine Ignis scolding him, not that he actually minded. The prince's omega always had this ability to make him feel cared for. "Okay, okay, I'll hit the showers."

It would have taken longer and been more inconvenient for Prompto to trudge all the way to the royal chambers where Ignis and Gladiolus would have washed up after a long day of training. He had been with Crowe on the Kingsglaive side of the Citadel, and he felt more comfortable around other humans. Ever since learning that male omegas had slightly different anatomy, he found himself trying to sneak peeks of Ignis whenever they were changing together. He was never successful because his embarrassment and nerves always caught up to him.

He ducked into the empty Kingsglaive showers and washed off the dirt and dust and sand. He washed the gunpowder from his hands and combed them through his hair as he stood under the hot spray of water. He thought about what Crowe had said, about watching a Niff solider die. He had never seen it, but she had on countless occasions. She had been responsible for their deaths before. All of the Kingsglaive were. Ignis had warned him about killing, but he didn't feel like he could do it. The idea of taking another person's life with his own hands, even from the distance of a gunshot, filled him with nerves. He was afraid that maybe killing someone would awaken the part of him he had tried so hard to forget.

Drautos's presence was an unexpected and, admittedly, unwelcome surprise, making Prompto stop mid stride as he headed back towards the lockers. There was nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and he was still dripping wet from his shower. The captain was tall and intimidating, even without his armor, with a stern visage. He regarded Prompto for a moment, his gaze travelling from the top of Prompto's head, down to the tips of his toes.

Prompto nervously shifted from one foot to the other. "Uh-- Captain!" he greeted awkwardly, bowing his head.

"Prompto is it? The human Crownsguard?"

"Y-yeah! Something like that..."

"To be a Crownsguard under such stressful circumstances... are you sure you're merely human?" Prompto tried to hear the humor in the captain's voice, but he couldn't find it.

Drautos approached him slowly, his strides long and purposeful, and Prompto backed up against the wall, managing only the most uncomfortable sounding laugh. "Yeah, that's me! A mere human!"

The laugh Drautos made in response somehow sounded more terrifying than his presence. It was low and slow with a forced affect of amusement before his hand reached, wrapping tight enough to bruise around Prompto's forearm, dragging it up to eye level. "This is a rather unusual scar." It wasn't a comment so much as a statement.

"Is it? I've had it my whole life..." This was exactly what Prompto feared, being caught by the man that could make Niflheim troops tremble. Drautos was going to figure him out, he was going to tell everyone and he was going to be hung for all to see.

"I've seen it before, but never on a human." Drautos's hand tightened, and Prompto swore he could hear his bones creak. This was not how he imagined he would go, naked in a locker room, murdered in cold blood by the captain of the Kingsglaive. He screwed his eye shut and looked away.

"There's a first time for everything..." Prompto somehow managed to squeeze out a laugh from his tightening throat.

"Do you want to know what this scar resembles?"

Even if Prompto shook his head, he knew the captain was going to tell him anyway.

"Among Niflheim soldiers, a scar like this signifies subservience. Any soldier with this scar bows at the whim of his commanding officer. It is what makes them such an efficient army. It's what makes them so ruthless." Drautos leaned forward and Prompto could feel his hot breath against his ear, making his stomach twist into knots. "They have no autonomy. They kill because they are commanded to kill. An army of betas, forced to obey. Mindlessly performing the tasks that are foisted upon them."

Drauto's other hand grabbed at Prompto's face, twisting it forward, forcing their eyes to meet. To call the look in his face murderous would have been granting him too much kindness. There was no explaining dead, coldness in Drautos's gaze. It did more than send chills down Prompto's spine. His entire body tensed at once, and he was overwhelmed by a metallic scent that he realized he could only identify as blood. "I have never had the honor of commanding a soldier who has no idea what he really is. Let us see just how obedient you remain even after all these years away."

All at once, Drautos let go of Prompto. He took a step back, and before Prompto could get his bearings, before he could try to escape, he was suddenly being forced onto his knees. There was no physical actions being done to him, no strong hands pushing him to the ground, no one knocking him down from behind. No, instead there was Drautos, pointing at the floor, commanding it. "Get down."

"Lick my boot," Drautos demanded next, holding his foot out, and Prompto obeyed, unable to stop himself as he reached for the dirt covered leather boot and dragged his tongue across the surface. He didn't know if the taste of iron that lingered in his mouth was the taste of blood or mud or something worse. Every part of him wanted to recoil in horror, disgust and fear, but he couldn't. He could hear Drautos laughing above him, sincere in the worst kind of way.

"Now, pledge your allegiance to the Empire of Niflheim."

"I--"

"Do it."

Prompto kowtowed, pressing his forehead against the cold tile floor. He was completely naked, prostrated in front of the captain of the Kingsglaive, with no control over his body, no ability to protest and pull away and beg for help. He opened his mouth and spoke, "I pledge my allegiance to the Empire of Niflheim." The words echoed in his skull and made his stomach churn.

"What the hell is happening here?!" Crowe's voice broke through the thick air of the locker room.

"Ah, Crowe. We're just performing an exercise in obedience," Drautos explained, "Perhaps you would like to participate?" And his voice was ungodly calm as he grabbed at Prompto, pulled him to his feet, arm wrapping around his middle as he held him close. He stroked the wet blond hair, moving it from Prompto's ear before leaning over to whisper, voice low and nearly impossible to hear, his next command in his ear.

Prompto felt Drautos push a weapon into his hand. His body recognized it instantly, fingers curling instinctively around the pistol, gilded and extravagant and imbued as a gift from the king, with magic. He couldn't hear Crowe yelling at him, at Drautos. As the captain of the Kingsglaive let go of him, Prompto cocked the gun, feeling the click as the bullet loaded into the chamber. His other hand moved to cup the grip for support and he raised it to eye level. He held it steady, lining up the shot. His finger curled on the trigger, and when Crowe's eyes met his own he held it there was a moment, brief and uncountable in it's length before the sound of a gunshot pierced the air, ringing in the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To note, I actually hate fridging women in order to move the story along, and I want to apologize for doing so. At the very least I can promise that I don't kill Luna by the end of this fic. I can't say there won't be any other casualties by the time I'm done but.......


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry about the ending of the last chapter. I'm a monster. I really can't say this fic gets anymore cheerful from here on out, though. ... Oh, and thanks to Jumpsoap for getting in touch with me and pointing out a couple (only a couple!???) typos in the previous chapter.

News of the Kingsglaive death shook the already precarious balance of the royal court of Insomnia. Captain Drautos came forward with the unfortunate news, that he had sent the young Crowe on a recon mission beyond the palace walls and she was shot in cold blood by Niflheim soldiers. Her death was a message from the empire, a sorrowful reminder that they continue to loom as a threat to the peace and safety within the walls of Insomnia, within the boundaries of the kingdom of Lucis. The journey of the prince, intended to send him into the world, was postponed indefinitely at the order of the king. In fact, the generous amount of freedom Noctis had been granted through his adolescence was choked, restricting him within the walls of the citadel. 

It was a decision that not even Ignis could protest. Though Regis found it very difficult to say no to an omega's requests, this one was resolute. He sat solemnly in his chair when Ignis approached, his gaze hard, mouth pulled into a thin line.

"No."

"But your Majesty, your son has trained for years for this. Seeing the world is what will give him the knowledge and experience to become as great a king as you are--"

"I am not risking my son's life just for a tradition."

"Your son has the Crownsguard! We've been trained to protect him. I am willing to give my life for the prince--"

Regis rose to his feet suddenly, his hands coming down hard on the armrests of his throne. The sound of it echoed through the empty hall. "Ignis, do you sincerely think that I am wiling to lose you for the life of Noctis?"

Ignis didn't flinch. He stood tall, back straight, shoulders squared. "Yes. Of course."

The answer hung in the empty hall as Regis slowly descended the steps to stand on even ground with the omega who had been chosen to belong to his son. He did not stand much taller than him, though he remembered a time when he could scoop both Ignis and Noctis into his arms at once. He took a deep breath and laid his large, warm hands on Ignis's shoulders. "You have been a part of this family for nearly as long a Noctis has." He spoke in a soft voice. "You are just as much a son of mine as he is. I am not willing to lose my sons' life just for tradition."

The word hung in the air between them. _Sons._

"Whether you like it or not, Ignis, you are family, and I am not about to sacrifice family for some silly little road trip."

Ignis lowered his head in a show of respect, feeling humbled in the moment He had never really considered himself part of the royal family. He had spent nearly his entire life knowing that would belong to Noctis, that he would serve him, and bear his children should it come to it, but it had never occurred to him that his long presence with the royal family, with the king and his court, would designate him as family. He looked up at the king and he pushed up self consciously at his glasses. "Your Majesty..."

"Let us try to maintain as much normalcy as possible during these trying times, hm?" Regis's stern expression softened, a small smile curving on his lips, mostly hidden by the salt and pepper beard, but the crinkle of his eyes resembled Noctis.

All Ignis could do was cross his arm respectfully over his chest and bow deeply. He felt the king's warm hand on his head in a gesture of comfort and reassurance. There was very little affection within the realm of the royal family, but when it was there, it was honest and effortless. He had spent his entire life with the thought that his family had long since sold him, had given him over to the royal family for the sake of breeding, but in this moment he realized that it extended further than that. The Scientias had served the Lucis Caleum family as long as they had been in Insomnia, and providing him to the prince was the ultimate gesture of their devotion.

Normalcy was encouraged by the king, despite refusing to let Noctis and his Crownsguard go on trip they had spent much of their years preparing for, so Ignis returned to the kitchen as he often did. It was an art form that he had spent more than half his life cultivating, relaxing in its own way. He created a tiered lunchbox for both Noctis and his beta, a protein rich combination of foods to fuel them as they took out their frustrations in the form of hand to hand combat training. After a moment's consideration Ignis also took the time to make something separate for Prompto.

Crowe's death seemed to have had taken it's toll on the young man. After her death was announced Prompto began skipping out on training and even made himself scarce at the Citadel. He hadn't even been there when Regis made his official announcement about the postponement of Noctis's trip. Ignis had had some awareness that a relationship of some variety had been developing between Prompto and the late Kingsglaive and the severity of his emotional response appeared to imply that perhaps Prompto was interested in her on a more intimate level than merely friendship. The thought conjured up a twinge in his chest, a tightness he had a difficult time putting into words.

Prompto had mentioned in the past, that his parents were often quite busy, that they were very rarely at home, so Ignis was surprised when a woman opened the door for him. She, predictably, looked nothing like her adopted son. Her skin was tanned and her hair was dark like many other Lucians. There was something haphazard about her appearance, and it was only after she gave him a once over did she recognize the black Crownsguard uniform. She bowed her head awkwardly, and when she spoke, it was quickly and in one breath not unlike Prompto when he was particularly excited. "Oh, I'm sorry your Crownsguardness. I wasn't expecting-- please forgive the state of our home--- are you looking for my son?"

Ignis relaxed his shoulders slightly, tried to present himself in a slightly less intimidating form. "Yes, ma'am. My name is--"

"Ignis! Yes, I know. You're the young prince's... well..."

"Ma'am, if you would?"

"Prompto is..." The woman cast her gaze back and forth and rubbed her shoulder in nervous gesture. "He's not home. I don't actually know where he went, but I'm sure he's nearby if he isn't with you. There's a little riverbank that he used to play on when he was younger? Maybe he's near there?"

Ignis couldn't help but think that the woman had something of a nervous disposition and he offered her a warm smile. "Thank you for your help. I promise I will bring him back safe and sound."

The woman let out a sigh of relief. "He's a good kid. His father and I appreciate everything you and the prince have done for him." She gave Ignis a polite bow and he returned the favor before taking the advice and seeking out the aforementioned river. It fed the body of water near the palace where Noctis had spent much of his free time as a child learning to fish with his father. Beyond the palace walls, the river looked murky and polluted, but Ignis followed the path of it, until he recognized a familiar, slim, blond figure, sitting with his knees pulled towards his chest.

Ignis approached quietly, careful not to disturb him. A camera rested precariously on Prompto's knees, and he lowered himself down beside him. "Prompto?"

Under normal circumstances he would have expected a startled reaction, but this time it felt as though the young man didn't even hear him. Ignis repeated the name.

Prompto's gaze wasn't focused. He was staring far off into the distance. There were dark circles under his eyes. Ignis reached a hand out and lay it gently on Prompto's shoulder,. The touch was enough to finally get his attention, making him shake his head. "Prompto?" Ignis repeated for a third time.

"Ig-- Ignis! Hey." Prompto's voice was missing the same energy he always had.

"I brought you lunch." Ignis held out the carefully wrapped box, a small smile playing at his lips, though he knew that the expression on his face read more as a look of concern and worry than anything else. He watched as Prompto seemed to struggle with the offer, appearing as though he weren't certain whether or not he wanted to refuse the offer, but then Prompto managed a grin, forced as it may have been, holding his hands out.

"Wow! That's so great, Specs! That's just so great!" Prompto opened the lunch box, his actions exaggerated. "Let's eat!"

Ignis waited, seeing the way the fork remained poised over the carefully presented meal of vegetables and meat. There was a slight quiver to the utensil, and he reached a hand out, covering Prompto's hand with his own. "You don't have to force yourself," he scolded in a low voice.

A sigh escaped Prompto's lips as though he had been trying to hold it in for days. He lowered the fork and silence hung between them for a few moments. When he spoke, it sounded hoarse but sincere, unlike the forced excitement he showed earlier. "What's a beta?"

It seemed, in the moment, like a strange question. Ignis knew that Prompto knew the answer. They had had this conversation about Gladio in the past, that Prompto had spoken to Gladio about it in the past, but Ignis opted to amuse him under the assumption that he was merely trying to make conversation, trying to fill in the awkward, uncomfortable quiet. "They're alphas who have chosen to devote themselves to another alpha."

"Betas have to obey their alphas too, right? They have no choice."

Ignis hesitated. Literature about their kind was more fantastic than it should have been. All the facts felt as though they were designed to make them out to sound less complicated than they really were. Everything was told with broad generalizations, and perhaps it was due in part to the fact that there were so few of them, or perhaps because everything was written either by Lucian Meds or Niflheim Meds, each party wanting to make themselves out to sound different than they were. At the same time, however, Ignis had no proof that these were not actually fact. He had never met a beta unwilling to obey their alpha, so it was accepted as truth. "I suppose so, yes. Why?"

Prompto shrugged. "I was just curious, I guess. Crowe never really knew if she were a Med or not. I guess I was just thinking that if she had been one, she could have avoided losing her life the way she did. She never would have been a Kingsglaive..."

"And you never would have met her." Ignis shifted a little closer to Prompto, and put an awkward arm around his shoulders. He wasn't good at this kind of comfort the way most omegas should be. "She was... important to you, wasn't she?"

"I... I wasn't in love with her, if that's what you're getting at."

At this distance Ignis could smell Prompto quite clearly. Metallic and spiced. Ignis had been, inexplicably, obsessed with Prompto's scent. He had found himself thinking about it constantly, even when his mind should have been occupied by more important duties or tasks. He was bothered most by the fact that he had never smelled anything quite like it. No human and no med has ever possessed a fragrance that sparked his olfactory senses in this way. It overwhelmed his curiosities, and he should have taken that for the warning that it was from the very start. Instead, Ignis took advantage of this close proximity to breathe in more of that scent, to file it away in his memory for reference in the future.

"Uhm... S-specs?"

Ignis realized a moment too late that he had put his nose in Prompto's hair. He pulled away quickly. "My apologies. I was merely trying to comfort you as an omega does." His hands were held up in a gesture of defense, and he watched Prompt shrug and look away, one hand closing tight on his wrist, covering the wristband there.

The sound Prompto made resembled a forced laugh. "You're really no good at comforting. It's okay. I don't need it." There was something in his voice that seemed to read less like need and more like deserve. Something churned in the back of Ignis's mind. "I'll get over it soon enough, don't worry. Noctis keeps bugging me, he says I need to be training, or I'll get fat again."

Ignis looked at Prompto for a long moment before he was struck with an inexplicable need to push his fingers through that head of blond hair. He gave the scalp a gentle scratch. He didn't know what it was, couldn't put it into words, but something did not feel right. He suspected that there was more than just a little agony involved in losing a friend, but more than that, more than depression hung in the air around the young man. 

Carefully, Ignis moved his hand from Prompto's hair to his cheek, gently turning his face towards him. Up close like this, Ignis could see a haunted look in Prompto's eyes; eyes that swum about to avoid contact; eyes that looked anywhere but forward. "Prompto, if there is something you want to tell me..."

"I can't." The words came quickly, rushing out of Prompto's mouth. "I can't." He repeated the words slower. He screwed his eyes shut.

"You can't?"

"He won't let me."

Ignis hesitated. This was more than he expected, and he almost did not want to hear the answer. He asked anyway, looking for clarification. "He?"

"Glauca."


End file.
